We are home.
It is two in the morning, and we have not been here very long. I am writing this from the very happy position of being in our own splendid bed, and it is a great pleasure, although I can tell you now it will be short.
We arrived home about an hour ago, to hear Oliver’s stories of dog rascalliness, and to be reunited with them all, in an ecstasy of happy wuffing. Guffy, who is right on the edge of being a feral cat at the best of times, looked very hard at us from a safe distance before approaching us, sideways on, finally allowing herself to jump on to my knee, where her knees buckled with happiness. She curled up, purring vibrantly, and bit me, by way of re-establishing ownership.
It is lovely to be home. Somebody who really cares about me had washed all of the sheets and towels and left our bedroom thoroughly dusted and hoovered. Oliver has looked after the house very well, and everywhere is tidy and clean.
We were very lateWe spent the entire day doing the last jobs at Lucy’s. It is almost done now. The carpets are down and the painting is finished. Lucy and I carted an enormous load of filthy rubbish to the tip and then installed new plug sockets and light switches. I am not a gifted electrician, and spent a lot of time scowling very hard at equipment that had been described as things like Two Way Three Gang and trying to work out where to screw in the blue wire.
Jack cleaned out my taxi for me, because the filthy rubbish had not improved it, and Mark built a new back doorstep, which looks wonderful.
In the end it was time to go. Lucy and Jack had arrived back very late in the early hours of Saturday morning, and been truly astonished to find their house had disappeared and a shinier one left in its place, and were quite pleased once they got over the shock. We laboured on over the rest of the weekend, and between us managed to make it beautiful, and our holiday was over.
We had barely got out of the end of the road before we realised that we were ravenously hungry, and stopped at a little Indian restaurant on some dingy back street, where they served us even though it was almost eleven, and we had the most wonderful spicy lamb with eggs and rice, which we wolfed down as if we had recently abandoned the idea of taking Ozempic. Then we had chai, with lots of sugar and coconut milk, and after that we were still hungry and bought some chocolate to eat on the way home.
I have actually fallen asleep twice whilst trying to compose this, and I think enough might be enough.
I will try again tomorrow.
I need to sleep.
